


Selfish

by claroso



Series: The Clara Amell Story [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Children, F/M, Gen, Self-Hatred, warden's child - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claroso/pseuds/claroso
Summary: Zevran contemplates the people closest to him.
Relationships: Female Amell/Zevran Arainai, Zevran Arainai/Female Warden, Zevran/Warden
Series: The Clara Amell Story [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1481576
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Selfish

**Author's Note:**

> Rewrite and repost of older work.

Zevran laid awake, something nameless buzzing underneath his skin. Vigil's Keep was quiet and still around him and a fire flickered in the hearth. And, though his weariness pulled on him, he could not settle, instead keeping an unnecessary vigil, eyes fixed on the figures in bed next to him.

His Warden was fast asleep underneath the covers, shielded against the cold Fereldan night. Clara's blonde hair tumbled across her pillow, only a shade darker than that of the small boy she held, curled safely against her chest. His open mouth formed a perfect circle as he breathed a steady rhythm into the night. 

They were both dead to the world, lost to the Fade. Having good dreams, he hoped, about sweet pies and bright sunshine and each other.

He should leave. He should take his few possessions, climb out the window, and steal a horse. He could in Antiva in three weeks if he hurried. It would be better. For everyone. 

Maybe he'd die fighting at the hands of assassins. No less than he deserved, really. 

He should be gone, and they'd both be better off. He knew they would. His love had killed an Archdemon, she was strong and far smarter than him; she would thrive. And the boy would grow to be much like her. 

He was strong, courageous. He asked incessant questions about anything and everything, always fascinated by the world around him. And he was loved. He wouldn't be anything like Zevran. The child wasn't his, but he doubted he could create anything so precious anyway.

They would be happy without him. Free from any threat of the Crows or the many enemies he's made in his short life. Absent of his nightmares, his paranoid mind seeing dangers around every street corner, from the dark tendrils in his own mind that threatened to reach out and sink into his waking world. 

Zevran slowly reached out, running a finger over his smooth cheek, through his tight golden curls. Why didn't he leave? How many nights did he lay awake, convincing himself into running off? 

He looked up, surprised to see his lover's eyes open and gazing at him so softly. She smiled, just barely, and his heart swelled. When he smiled in return, she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. 

As he laid his head down, he felt a small hand close over his finger. 

Ah, well. He supposed he'd always been a selfish bastard. 


End file.
